News Archive: Max May 2004

Now we return to some stories we were following earlier. In response to
My
life as a sex god, several people wrote in to inform me
that I am not attractive. Jennifer, for example, wondered if she’d
missed something:

How can these fans tell
youre pretty? It CERTAINLY isnt from the pics you post on your site..
have you actually looked at those?

While Jonnie was more emphatic:

I really don’t think that you’re that good looking. Maybe no one
has told you this, but your HEAD is WAY TOO BIG for your body!

What!? I thought everybody had to deal with their head
sinking down and mashing the keyboard from time to time. Now
I find out I have to hang out next to James Van Der Beek just to
look normal? It’s… oh. Wait, I see what’s happened here.
Jonnie mistook that stick figure
with my head on it for a full-length photo.

I just wanted to officially state that I will be your “RENT-A-FRIEND” in
Portland, OR. You call and I am there. I will cackle with joy at every
phrase.

I tell you what, if this works out, I’m putting Steve on permanent
retainer.

Several Canadians wrote to tell me they planned to take immediate
action following my
Snubbed
by Canada post, in which I lamented the fact that my last
royalty statement for Syrup showed a paltry six sales there.
I am now looking forward to a big turnaround. Based on these letters
alone, sales are set to almost double!

Finally, part of the
Mysterious
Packages puzzle has been solved, with Sharon confessing
she sent me the Office Space DVD to repay me for posting her a
book. I’m pretty sure Sharon already paid me plenty for postage, so
I’m grateful for her generosity, or early-onset senility. The
other part of the mystery, though—that strange
“Jennifer Government #75” card—remains unsolved. Spooky.

I’m becoming more attractive. At first I merely
suspected this, but now I’m sure of it: I am heaps better looking
than I used to be. I must be, because more and more I get
e-mails telling me that I’m pretty, and previously I never got
any. I think you’ll agree there’s only one logical conclusion:
my looks are increasing in a linear relationship with my age.
By the time I reach 80 I will be an irresistible
sex symbol and have to fight off young women with my
walking frame.

Just today, for example, I received an e-mail from Toni who says:

Oh………. and you are absolutely the hottest thing since bluetooth

Whoa! For a web geek like me, that’s so hot I have to adjust
my USB cable. Earlier this year on my American book tour, a girl asked
me to sign her bra. Admittedly, she wasn’t wearing it at the time,
which makes the incident less sex-drugs-and-rock-and-roll than
please-label-your-clothing-before-laundering, but still: that
never happened before. It used to be that
girls were very determined to keep me away from their bras.

I got a tip-off, though, that perhaps there was more to this
than simply my being a chiseled example of desirable manhood when
one e-mail said:

I was interviewed for Melbourne’s
MX Magazine
this afternoon (article to run on Monday), and they wanted
to take some photos.

I said, “Smiling, looking serious, funny expressions, what?”

“Funny expressions,” said Nic, the photographer. “We like funny
expressions.”

So, ignoring the fact that I was standing in a very public and
busy part of Melbourne and passing businessmen were
doing things I couldn’t see but were sure were inappropriate
behind my back, I did what I could.

Nic sniggered. “What was that, your Magnum look?”

“Hey,” I said. “I thought you photographers were meant to
build up my confidence. Lower my inhibitions. Develop a bond
of trust between photographer and subject.”

I’ve never really gotten into instant messaging or
IRC,
mainly because I already have enough trouble keeping up with my
e-mail. I don’t really need
any new avenues of communication that I don’t have
time to respond to. But I’ve just had my second ever
IRC interview with
NationStates
players, and it was good fun. If you’re interested in what
I had to say about beers, bookstores, and programming, there’s
a transcript available.